n them. Wulf struck a mighty blow and
emptied the saddle of the first, then was swept to earth. As he
fell from behind him he heard a scream of joy, and struggling to
his knees, looked round. Lo! from over the crest of the rise
rushed squadron upon squadron of turbaned cavalry, who, as they
came, set their lances in rest, and shouted:

"Salah-ed-din! Salah-ed-din!"

The Assassins saw also, and turned to fly--too late!

"A horse! A horse!" screamed Godwin in Arabic; and presently--
how he never knew--found himself mounted and charging with the
Saracens.

To Wulf, too, a horse was brought, but he could not struggle to
its saddle. Thrice he strove, then fell backwards and lay upon
the sand, waving his sword and shouting where he lay, while
Masouda stood by him, a dagger in her hand, and with her Rosamund
upon her knees.

Now the pursuers were the pursued, and dreadful was the reckoning
that they must pay. Their horses were outworn and could not fly
at speed. Some of the fedai were cut down upon them. Some
dismounted, and gathering themselves in little groups, fought
bravely till they were slain, while a few were taken prisoners.
Of all that great troup of men not a score won back alive to
Masyaf to make report to their master of how the chase of his
lost bride had ended.

A while later and Wulf from his seat upon the ground saw Godwin
riding back towards him, his red sword in his hand. With him rode
a sturdy, bright-eyed man gorgeously apparelled, at the sight of
whom Rosamund sprang to her feet; then, as he dismounted, ran
forward and with a little cry cast her arms about him.

"Hassan! Prince Hassan! Is it indeed you? Oh, God be praised!"
she gasped, then, had not Masouda caught her, would have fallen.

The Emir looked at her, her long hair loose, her face stained,
her veil torn, but still clad in the silk and gleaming gems with
which she had been decked as the bride-elect of Al-je-bal. Then
low to the earth he bent his knee, while the grave Saracens
watched, and taking the hem of her garment, he kissed it.

"Allah be praised indeed!" he said. "I, His unworthy servant,
thank Him from my heart, who never thought to see you living
more. Soldiers, salute. Before you stands the lady Rose of the
World, princess of Baalbec and niece of your lord, Salah-ed-din,
Commander of the Faithful."

Then in stately salutation to this dishevelled, outworn, but
still queenly woman, uprose hand, and spear, and scimitar, while